The Shattered Sword
by SB2Lazy
Summary: 15 years ago, the kingdom of Hyrule fell. A young man, living life as a farmer with his family, longs to find adventure in the world. But destiny will have a role to play, for the simple farm that the man grew up on will soon change forever. Rated T for violence, swearing, and unpleasant themes.


**Author's note:**

**Welcome everyone! This is my first fanfiction, as well as my first time writing a large scale story. I hope to improve my style and writing ability as time goes on, so please feel free to rate and review.**

**Just a general note, while I am using many characters from past Legend of Zelda games, this is an original story. It will not follow any path of specific games, though it will reference them. This story will also follow my interpretation of the child timeline laid out in the Hyrule Hystoria. I hope that it will entertain you and that you will want to read more.**

**I also want to thank Freedan the Eternal, whose story The Silent Kingdom, gave me the inspiration to actually right down my own story. As such, in his honor, several of the characters are named similarly.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Nintendo, Legend of Zelda, or any affiliated characters. I am simply a fan with a story to tell.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 1: A Day in the Life

A chilled wind blew across his face. A strange darkness permeated his surroundings, light existing as a mere fantasy. He attempted to walk forward, but seemed to neither gaining nor losing ground. A quiet whispering could be heard within the valleys of the wind. Its words seemed loss, incoherent at their volume. Suddenly, a blinding light cast itself upon his face. Any attempt at shielding his eyes seemed to have failed. But it was strange. Despite its discomfort in the darkness, this light seemed to bring warmth to the chilled wind and comfort to his face. Still adjusting to the light, his ears heard the escalation of the before quiet whisperings. As though they had been magnified by a thousand men, a foreboding, yet calming voice reached his ears:

"You have been called forth to serve. Your call is undeniable, but your path is not yet set upon by destiny. Prepare yourself, for the final fight is closing in and you will be one to determine its outcome."

Attempting to understand these words, he meant to speak questions of these statements. Serve whom? What call? What path? And what final fight? But as hard as he tried to vocalize his thoughts, nothing seemed to enter the air. Silence was all that he could speak. Unanswered silence that would be broken by a shrill, yet familiar tone.

"Antony! Wake up, son. Wake up!"

Startled by the sound, Anthony shot out of his deep sleep, eyes wide open attempting to focus. Disoriented by the early morning sun, his eyes barely made out the blurry image of his mother. The familiar dark brown wavy hair, tanned skin, and deep brown eyes stood over him with a look of exacerbation and annoyance.

"You need to get to the field. Your father's been bugging me for the past half hour to get your lazy ass out of bed. So move it!"

In a very sleepy motion, Anthony slowly sat up, pulling his bed sheets off him. He looked for his mother, who was making her way out of the door of his small bedroom. She was in her usual brown dress that she wore for work on their small farm. Before making her exit, she turned to address her son:

"I put your tunic and pants at the edge of your bed. You really ought to avoid getting them so dirty, took me almost an hour last night just to remove that mud stain from the back of the tunic." Her tone was usually not this condescending, but clothing and other house chores were never his mother's trade. She enjoyed the heavier lifting, milking the cow, feeding the cuccos. Put her in the kitchen and give her clothes to wash. She could do it, but it sometimes put a major strain on her personality.

"I'll try to avoid getting kicked by the goat next time," Antony said. "It's hard enough keeping them in line without worrying if my clothes are getting stained. But I'll try to keep them clean."

A smile crept onto his mother's face, confirming that she was simply nagging on her son. "See that you do, son."

Moving to get out of his bed, Antony was attempting to stand up before he remembered her mentioning his father.

"What was that about Dad?" he asked, seemingly not remembering his usual morning routine.

"He's been wondering where you've been for the past half hour or so. There's a lot of work to get done on the field today, you know. It is close to festival time."

"Oh, right. I'll be out once I get dressed." Memories rushing to his head, Antony recalled the last few hectic days and the heap of work that awaited him. Gathering the last crop of grain and oats as well as plowing the new section of land his family just acquired was going to make it a long day. It wasn't always pleasant work, but it helped his family live comfortably. And once these next few weeks are past, and the Harvest Moon festival was over, his workload would lessen greatly.

Thanking his mother for the wakeup call as she left his room, Antony proceeded to gather his tunic and pants from the foot of the bed. He tried to recall his the dream that had paralyzed his mind before being woke up, but he seemed not to remember any of it. Instead he focused on slipping his legs into his pants. Normally, he would wash up before setting out on the days chores, but waking up late and the prospect of getting immediately dirty from sweat and dirt calmed his need to present himself well. Staring down at his worn clothing, he chuckled to himself. His family did not always have much money, but he really needed knew clothing. While he had nothing against his brown pants, his forest green tunic was over staying its welcomed. He had once been obsessed with the color, his adventurous nature dictating everything he did and wore; his devotion to the forest and nature was evident in all his favorite pastimes. But now that he was older, the green did not suit him as well. Antony was also tired to being compared to a walking bush, especially after a day in the field. As he slid the tunic over his head and fastened his pants buckle, he reminded himself that it was his eighteenth birthday coming up in two weeks, a week before festival. He might be able to convince his parents to get him a new outfit.

Though Antony's family lived as simple farmers, they found quite a few ways to make a decent income for a few simple luxuries. One of the more lucrative incomes they had maintained was with the Lion's Head Tavern. Though the village of Suza was small and only served as a trading post for local farmers, the Tavern served as a center to all the trade and commerce. It was unheard of for any trader to conduct themselves anywhere else. As such, the tavern needed a steady supply of grain and oats in order to brew its fairly delicious beer. Antony's father, almost 12 years ago, had somehow convinced the Tavern's owner to only accept grain from him. Ever since then, though the work of constantly providing brewing supplies was rough, it allowed for Antony's family to live much more comfortably than many other famers.

Exiting his room, Antony rushed on through the kitchen. His mother must have already left to tend to the livestock, but she was kind enough to leave an apple and a roll out for him to eat. He quickly wolfed down the roll, but decided to pocket the apple for a snack later on in the day. Brushing off a few crumbs from his rushed meal, Antony made his way to the outside door. Feeling the warmth of the morning sun warded off any sleep he was still feeling. Though it was the beginning of fall, it was still fairly warm, so Antony was not worried about grabbing his cloak. Between the warm sun and his hard work out in the field, he knew no chill would meet him today.

Antony made his way from the front door of his family's home to the field. His family did not own too much land, but it was still most than others. While most of the local land was fields, there were outcroppings of forests dispersed about. Antony's family built their home and barn inside one of these smaller outcroppings. This allowed for their home to be hidden from any unwanted visitors, while giving quick access to the fields they tended. Not long after leaving his house, Antony passed by the entrance to the barn. This was where the livestock and farm equipment were kept. It also was the occasional sleeping spot for Antony and his father, each of them getting lost in their work and falling asleep in the hay. As he passed by, Antony resisted the urge to enter it. He knew that was where his mother and sister were, and he wanted to say good morning to Kili, his sister, but fear of his father's anger forced him to continue on to the fields. It was time to get this long day started.

"It's time to train, son."

Antony looked down at the weighted wooden sword that was just tossed in his lap. A look of exhaustion painted his face as he grabbed the hilt of the mock blade and stood up. It had been a long day in the field, and his body complained even at the slightest effort.

"Couldn't we skip training, just for today Dad? I'm exhausted…"

"A dedicated swordsman never misses an opportunity to improve his skills," replied the rough voice of Alex, his father. "Anyways, I should be the one complaining about exhaustion. I've got thirty years on you, boy." Moving a few paces away from his son, Alex tested the weight of his own wooden sword before placing himself in a combat ready position. He gestured at his son to start the practice engagement.

"Fine, old man. It still doesn't stop you from kicking my ass every time we train," said Antony. This was almost a daily occurrence for the father son pair. After the day's work, they would train until Silviana, Alex's wife, and mother to Antony and Kili, called them to dinner. Alex was once a knight of Hyrule and was considered a brilliant swordsman. Though his career as a knight ended early, he passed on his skills every day to his son. Though young, Antony seemed to have an almost prodigy level skill with the sword. And this was capitalized on by Alex for since Antony had been old enough to work in the field.

Antony set his footing and lifted his sword to a relaxed ready position. The father son pair stood still for what seemed like minutes, allowing for the now setting sun to wash twilight over the trees surrounding them. Suddenly, Alex sprang forward, throwing a particularly vicious horizontal slice towards his son.

Fortunately, Antony responded all too quickly, angling his sword diagonally and forcing himself into a forward position. He moved his blade to the side and up, blocking Alex's slice. Rather than pull back into a defensive position, Antony moved forward with downward thrust of his blade, hoping to catch his father off-guard. However, his father swung his blade in a quick, but elongated circle, effectively parrying the blow. Both swordsmen responded to this final move and moved into a brief ready position before falling right back into their engagement.

For over an hour, this back and forth training continued on. Despite using extremely heavy training swords, both swordsman moved and fought as they though were wielding feathers. Alex was not surprised by his son's endurance. Even though he was still young, he was able to duel his father to a stalemate. However, Antony still had much to learn. Deciding that they should take a break, Alex forced Antony into a high guarding position, forcing him defend his upper body against a sword strike. Instead of striking with his sword, Alex through his legs out in a low kick, tripping his son, causing his to fall forwards. Moving with an extreme efficiency, Alex sidestepped his son decisively placing a blow to Antony's ribs. With a yelp of surprise and pain, his son fell.

"Damn. I should have expected that," Antony spoke through the dull pain of that last strike. "That blow to the legs seemed a little unfair." Rubbing his bruised side from where the wooden sword struck, he shakily returned to his feet.

"War and battle are never fair, son." Alex spoke with a most serious tone, "There is no such thing as a humane fight. You'll need to remember that."

Antony knew of what he spoke. "You're talking about the war." Though the village of Suza was fairly remote, news of the war still spread from the traders' mouth. About 15 years, the country of Hyrule fell to a ruthless tyrant, only known as the demon Ganon. Ever since then surrounding nations have been preparing and fighting what seemed an endless war against the tyrant's armies. A few countries had fallen. Hobosa, a nation south of Hyrule, rich with some of the strongest woods known to man, had been razed entirely 8 years ago. The nation to the east of Hobosa, Holodrum was plummeted into the fires of Suburbia and was known now only as a wasteland. The northern land of Seiber, a collection of nomadic tribes had either been extinguished or joined Ganon's dark army. The same ambiguous fate was the same for Isjeb, the Western coast nation. Labrynna, the neighbor of Antony's home of Andor, had most recently succumbed to civil war. When the royal family of Labrynna was murdered by revolutionaries 2 years back, the country seemed to ally itself to Ganon's cause. The only nations in the known world left standing were scrambling to prepare for what seemed an imminent invasion. Isen a country on the northern peninsula of the continent had already been engaging Ganon's navy, a terrifying fleet of undead, animated skeletons known as Stalfos. Andor had been bolstering its borders, preparing for Labrynna to invade. The only country that had not seen the war was Catalonia, but even they were reported to have built up their army, preparing for the conflict.

Despite the supposed ruthlessness of the dark armies, Antony's farm home had not seen the dangers yet. Outside of traders' whispers and the occasional refuge, Suza had remained untouched and almost ignorant of the war. Antony's parents tried to keep any news from their children, especially the seven year old Kili, but Antony knew the struggles happening. His father had started teaching him more than just swordplay over the last few year, incorporating infantry and cavalry tactics into training lessons. But they rarely discussed the war directly, as both of them seemed to fear that discussing it would bring it to their quiet home.

Alex stared at his soon for a few moments, before deciding to say his worries. "Antony, I hope you never have to see battle, but I feel that the war is coming and no amount of silence can change that."

"But you still won't let me leave and join the army." Antony had long desired the freedom of the adult life, often bringing up joining Andor's army as a means to explore and live. His adventurous spirit kept him restless on the farm, but Alex had never wanted the soldier's life for his son.

"Being one of many soldiers helps no one." Alex scolded his son, "I left the ranks of the knights of Hyrule because that life is not becoming of this family. I love you, Antony. I won't have you become one of the many nameless casualties that die for this country."

"Then what am I supposed to do? Stay here until demons walk to our doors? I won't sit by and do nothing!" Antony had never truly understood his father's hatred of the military life, especially for a man who was so skilled at the sword.

Alex observed his son's angry features in frustration cast his wooden sword to the dirt. He had always found it remarkable how much he and his son looked alike. They shared the same light brown hair, the same face, the same build. The only remarkable difference was Antony's darker skin tones, inherited from his mother. Especially now, in his anger, Antony reminded Alex of his younger self, extremely brash and forthcoming. But he did not wish for war to become his life and hoped that the Goddesses would grant his request.

"Son, I don't expect you to sit by and do nothing. I want you to have the life I have. Living without the worry and fear of war. Finding love, having a family. These are the things you should have. Not the honor of dying for the cause. Do you understand?"

Antony looked up at his father and nodded. "I just feel like something horrible is coming and I am stuck just doing menial farm work."

"Well, until something horrible does happen, let's just focus on that menial farm work instead. Speaking of such, you should probably go wash up before your mother calls you to dinner."

Antony agreed with his father and set himself out to the wash room of their house. As he walked, he couldn't help but feel a feeling of foreboding pain around him. Maybe it was the war, but Antony felt that something was going to happen soon and he was not sure if it would be good.

The entire family sat around the dining. As farmers, they were not graced with the luxury of as much room as a noble, but the home that Alex had built for them years ago spaciously fit the fairly large table rather well. With each member of the family each had a bowl of a beef stew Silviana had made during the day, as well as some rolls. With almost primal desire, the entire family was quickly devouring their meals. Except maybe Kili, who had decided that playing with her food would be more fun.

"Kili!" Silviana's motherly tone chided her daughter, "You know better than to play with you food."

The young girl, an almost perfect younger image of her mother, stopped creating the mess she seemed so fond of and stared at her mother. Her childish smile soon disappeared into a sad frown, obviously disappointed that her fun had been cut short.

"But mom…"

"Listen to your mother, Kili." Alex interjected for his wife's sake. The seven year old was often a hand full, but she usually listened intently to everything her father said.

"Okay, dad," Kili replied meekly. She never did enjoy being chastised by her father or mother.

During the entire meal, Antony seemed abnormally silent. Normally, he would go on about his sword lessons or his adventures in the village tavern, but he seemed to not want to give up his words. His mother was a bit worried about it, as it was out of place, so she took it upon herself to correct that.

"Antony, is everything alright?" She asked sweetly, hoping her son would respond with more than a grunt. When he was in these moods, it was hard to pry him out of them.

"Everything's fine mom. Just tired."

Not completely pleased with the answer, she wanted to press on. But a quick look at her husband shaking his head warned her not to press her luck. She resigned her questions for another time.

"Okay, son. Just making sure…"

Suddenly, the sound of a knock was heard from the house's front door. The three older members of the family exchanged quick glances. It was well after sundown, normally any visiting villagers would arrive early in the day. With almost practiced precision, Alex sat up from his chair and moved to the family's fireplace. He reached above the gentle stonework and grabbed a medium sized broadsword. A family heirloom, this sword had been forged by one of his ancestors hundreds of years ago and passed down from father to son. Holding the familiar grip of the blade, Alex removed the sword from its sheath and proceeded to the door. He took a second to motion back to his family, signaling to his wife and son to be ready in case of trouble. He grabbed the doorknob and after taking a deep breath, he opened the door, keeping his sword bared for protection.

When he opened the door, he saw a strange for the times. Three travelers stood outside of the doorway, and while still weary of them, he noticed that they were hylian. While hylians were not unheard of, those who contained the pureblood, evidenced by the elf-like ears, were extremely rare. While he and his family were all pureblooded, it was rare, especially in Andor to meet others like them. Deciding to take a slight chance with them, he lowered his sword slightly, while still keeping it ready for a fight.

However, it seemed that these travelers did not have fight in them. The middle traveler, somewhat surprised by the welcome they were given, quickly put up signs of peace and spoke.

"I'm sorry, sir, if we startled you. My companions and I have traveled all day and are looking for a place to rest. We came upon your home and though to ask for lodging."

The voice that spoke somewhat shocked Alex. Rather than the voice of a rough traveler or marauder, he heard a very soft, but elegant feminine tone radiate from the traveler's mouth. Deciding to take a chance, Alex addressed the stranger.

"Sorry, m'am. We don't usually get travelers this late. We don't have room in our house, but we could offer our barn."

The stranger who had addressed him looked to her other companions. While hooded, Alex could not make out any discernible features of either of them, outside of their ears. In a somewhat dramatic motion, the stranger lowered her hood, revealing somewhat long golden hair and a face Alex could describe as something of a goddess herself. The stranger addressed Alex once again:

"Thank you, sir. That would be most kind of you."

Relaxing a bit more, Alex decided to gain a bit more information from the stranger before he would allow them to reside in their barn overnight. "May I ask your name, m'am? I am Alex of Suza."

The stranger stared at Alex for a brief moment, but eventually answered.

"Yes, you may call me Marin."

**That concludes my first chapter. I hope to update this story weekly, though if I'm lucky, I might proceed faster. Please rate and review. If anyone has lore or story questions, feel free to message me.**


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